


Ginny the Great

by Hobo_Pope



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Masturbation, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-15
Updated: 2013-03-15
Packaged: 2017-12-05 08:44:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/721125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hobo_Pope/pseuds/Hobo_Pope
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ginny Weasley writes a confessional letter to a random Muggle, who won't understand. Nobody else would either.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ginny the Great

Sometimes, I wish that the only person I've ever been able to confide in didn't possess me in order to murder my friends. I mean, it was a diary, not a person. And it was filled with the spirit of the most evil wizard of all time. But, dammit! I miss Tom.

I think there's something wrong with me and I can't tell Tom because he's evil and dead and I don't know who to tell, I can't tell anyone. So I'm writing this on a burnt-after-reading parchment, sending an owl to a random muggle, and hoping this will be enough to make me feel more like a normal human being.

Since I'll never see you and you won't understand anyway, there's no use being coy. There's something wrong with me and boys. It doesn't matter what I do, it just never works. I've dated a couple boys, but they never really did anything for me. There was one time when this privileged, evil asshole and I got into a fight that ended up a lot more physical than I'd expected. I've tried a couple of adults (I expect I'm not really popular with the teachers' wives at the moment) and I've made eyes at basically anyone who looked like they might be up for some fun. 

But it's not right.

And I've seen the pictures, heard the rumors. I know there are girls who, you know, like other girls. I don't really know much about it, but I know that I've never even wanted to kiss a girl, so I doubt that's the answer to my problem.

No boy has ever made me orgasm.

And, well, that would be a big enough problem, right? Except, I think, I've come up with a, umm, solution.

I've kind of kept trying with boys. You see, there's this one I really like. He's brilliant, he's brave, he's bloody gorgeous. I've been dreaming about him basically my whole life. And now I'm not with anyone and he's not with anyone and it seems like we're going to be together and I don't know if he'll be ok with my "solution".

So, I'm not going to tell him. He's got the weight of the world on his shoulders, you know? And I don't want him thinking that he can't keep me... happy. I mean, I am happy! I love him! I want to be with him forever, I want to marry him, I want to have children with him! So what if I can't cum with him, dammit! I can get that without him and lay back and think of England with him.

Ok, so what I'm not telling Harry. What I wish I could tell Tom. I've started playing with myself. But not, well, not by myself. I mean, everyone touches themselves, I've walked in on the twins doing it _together_ and the girls dorm has a whole tie system worked out and everything but what I'm doing isn't normal. It can't be normal. And I can't tell anyone and so I'm going to write it here and

Ok, so you're a muggle and you won't even know but there's these things in the world, these evil, terrible, horrible things that fly around and suck all the happiness out of the world. We call them dementors and they're the worst thing in the world. And, well, there's really only one way to fight them. Wizards create this anti-dementor. It's like a happiness guardian. And we call them patronuses and mine's a horse and

And, well. He's the only way I can cum.

God, I'm such a disgusting person, but it just feels like a weight's lifted off my chest. I can breathe again. And I don't have to tell Harry and get him confused or anything. Well. Thank you, muggle, for your help. 

Ginny

P.S. You should probably drop this parchment because as soon as you finish reading this sentence it will burst into flames and you'll probably forget all about it thanks to the obliviate trap I've put on.


End file.
